From Bogs to Pharaohs
by RissDwarrow
Summary: Traveling exhibits come at go, that's nothing new to the museum. What is new, however, is what Agate sees when she wakes up for the first time in centuries. Glowing boxes on the ceiling? Smooth, patterned floors? Thankfully, she has Ahkmenrah to help her through her confusion, but even that won't fix everything. OC x Ahkmenrah. T for angst. Not beta'd.
1. Lost

Night.

Cold.

Dark.

She shivered, though whether from fear or from the chilling wind she could not tell. The breeze whipped past her and through the tangle of branches and leaves surrounding her, creating eerie whispers that murmured warnings. She could see nothing familiar about the trees around her; she could see nothing at all. The dense forest canopy above her blotted out the moon's light, covering the ground with a single, black shadow that seemed to choke everything it touched.

To say that she was unnerved would be putting it lightly; haunting stories of dragons, trolls and other man-eating beasts filled her mind, and though she paid them little heed in the daylight, they seemed much more frightening in the dark. Cursing herself once more for being so foolish as to wander this far away from home when it had been so late, she was startled out of her scolding by the sharp sound of twigs snapping nearby. Through the muttering wind, she thought she heard a low growl coming from her left, but she was unsure. Hearing it once again, she turned around, half expecting to see a pair of slanted, yellow eyes glaring out at her from the darkness.

Seeing nothing, she momentarily relaxed before the sound of snapping twigs returned, closer than before. Her heart in her throat, she stumbled backwards, then turned and ran as she thought she perceived an ominous shape rearing up in front of her. Her chest heaving as she ran, she paid little heed to where she was going. A sudden cramp in her side caused her to totter slightly, but she continued on, her mind clouded with fear of what could be chasing her.

She ran on and on, only finally stopping to rest after what had seemed like hours. Leaning against a tree, she looked around once more, grateful to see the moonlight illuminating more than finger-width patches on the ground. While it still did not lend enough light to see much clearly, it offered her comfort as she calmed her mind and steadied her heavy breathing. No beasts charged out of the shadows, and no trolls appeared to steal her away for their dinner. She was safe, at least for the time being, though she still had no idea where she was. Resisting the urge to cry, she squared her shoulder and made her way towards the lighter area of woods, hoping to see something- anything- familiar. One tree, twisted in a way that made it seem as though it were a pig's tail, caught her attention, and as she stepped closer to get a better look, she felt her foot falling on empty air. With a gasp of surprise, she fumbled for better footing, breathing a sigh of relief as she stabilized herself. Looking into the dark pit in front of her, she searched for a way around it. Finding one, she made her way along the side, keeping a careful eye on where she set her feet.

After a few more slight stumbles that were quickly corrected, she was close enough to the crooked tree to see that it was, in fact, not familiar at all. Venting her frustration as she kicked at the tree's trunk, she felt hot tears stinging her eyes as her breath hitched. She did not want to wait for sunrise to find her way back home; it had only been a couple of hours since sundown, and she had no desire to continue roaming the strange, frightening woods for eight-or-so more hours. She already knew that she would get no sleep on the cold, hard ground, though her energy was far too drained for her stay awake. As the tears flowed, she cursed herself much more vehemently than before for her stupidity and kicked at the truck once again, angry at it for getting her hopes up.

The wind howled once again, a long, mournful sound that cut her right to the bone. Startled, she realized that it wasn't the wind- it was a wolf. A rather angry-looking wolf glaring at her from the other side of the crooked tree, so close she could the drool hanging off its lower lip. It snarled, and she felt its hot breath on her face. More howls chorused around her, filling her to the brim with sharp, cold fear that all but froze her body as she tried to take a step back. Then another, and another. She couldn't feel her feet moving beneath her- she didn't even notice when her ankle caught on a root and she fell off-balance, barely straightening up in time to avoid falling over. All she knew was that there was a wolf in front of her, it was growling, and it was going to kill her. If it didn't, then one of the others would. She was going to die.

Then she was falling. Backwards, over the edge of the small cliff she had noticed before, and into the darkness. A wolf leapt at her, twisting in the air to change its course before it, too, fell into the void.

She was airborne for only a few seconds, and by the time she noticed what was happening, she was knocked unconscious as her head collided with a particularly large rock jutting out of the ground. She felt a sharp, sudden pain, then nothing as her mind slipped off into total darkness, leaving the rest of her body to fend for itself as it sunk slowly into the cold, wet, murky marsh in the shadows.

* * *

"Alright, everyone," Larry Daley scanned the room, double-checking that everything was in order, "Uh, we're just going to do a quick review of what's going to happen tonight. We all know how crazy everything can get with new exhibits, so let's just go over everything one more time-"

"Hold up now, hoss," Jedidiah Smith, the pint-seized cowboy, piped up. "This ain't our first rodeo."

"His is right, Larry. We know our duties, and we shall perform them valiantly." Octavius, Jedidiah's Roman best friend, declared, adding in the dramatic hand-flourish that seemed to accompany every sentence he uttered. At least he wasn't staring off into the distance again.

"Don't-don't give me that, Oc. Remember the last time you carried it out 'valiantly?' Remember that?" Octavius hung his head, thinking back to a few weeks before when, as a joke, he and Jed had somehow managed to stuff all of the birds- including the ostrich- into the Lewis and Clark exhibit, which resulted in an inch of bird droppings and two traumatized explorers.

"You said they needed to stop arguing, and the birds got them to stop. You owe us one darn big 'thank you.'" Jed challenged, widening his eyes in what he hoped was an innocent expression. "Do you know how hard it was to round them up?"

"Probably not as hard as it was to clean up after them." Larry countered. Jed started to retort, but whatever he had to say was muffled by the Roman's hand covering his mouth.

"We are truly sorry for the inconvenience we caused. We have learned from our mistakes and have decided against any more idiotic acts for the near future." Octavius spoke quickly, ending with a yelp of pain as teeth bit into his wrist, leaving angry, red marks.

"I'm glad that at least one of you has decided to grow up. I'd hate to have to stick you in the Mayan diorama again." Whatever Jed's next sentence was going to be died on his lips as he realized what Larry was insinuating. He nodded quickly, his eyebrows raised and his mouth set in a serious line.

"Lawrence," Teddy, ever the voice of reason in this crazy circus, scolded, "They've learned their lesson, now let them be. There is no honor in kicking a dead dog."

"Did you just-" Once again, Octavius' hand covered the cowboy's mouth before they could get in any more trouble.

Ignoring the outburst, Teddy continued. "We know what needs to be done, Lawrence. There is no need to review everything again."

"Okay, fine, but I don't want a repeat of the last time we had a travelling exhibit. Those dinosaurs nearly got me fired!"

"Relax, my boy. I will keep an eye on our exhibits while you and Sacajawea greet the new ones. We will not let you down." He gestured around at all those assembled as he added the last bit, smiling broadly as was his nature.

"Sure, yeah, yeah. I'll relax. I'm relaxed." A look from Teddy made him roll his eyes, "I _am_. Just don't let things get out of control, okay?"

"I will not."

"Good. Jed, Octavius, I want you both to stay with Teddy. Teddy, keep an eye on them. Don't let them out of your sight. Attila, you and your huns guard the exits; we got lucky last time that none of the velociraptors figured out how to open the doors. Sacajawea, come with me." Larry headed off at a quick pace- the usual for him. Sacajawea trailed behind, catching up with him easily. As the crowd's volume increased to normal levels and the exhibits began to dissipate back to their normal routines, only one was left with nothing to do.

"What seems to be the issue, boy?" Teddy's voice rang out through the clean-cut halls as he clapped the young Egyptian on the shoulder. "Stuck with nothing to do?"

"Yes, that's exactly it, sir." Ahkmenrah answered, ignoring the jolt of pain the stronger man had inflicted upon his shoulder. "I was given no duty to fulfill this night."

"Well, what would you like to do? I'm sure we can find a job befitting someone of your lineage."

"I was wondering if I could be allowed to accompany Larry and Sacajawea to the travelling exhibits, but I was not chosen for that honor and could not ask before he left."

"Then go on and join them! I'm sure he would appreciate the help, and I believe that they would strongly benefit from you being there as a translator if a situation should occur."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Now get going, they may have need of you yet!" Teddy smiled again as he turned on his heel, marching back to where his horse was nibbling on a potted plant's fabric leaves. "Now where have those two miniatures gone off to?"

Smiling slightly as he saw the two said miniatures giggling as they sat atop the president's hat, Ahkmenrah hurried off to the storage room, thankful to have finally been given a job to do, even if it was something as simple as translating.


	2. Awakening

"The woods are treacherous, Agate. Take heed not to wander too far."

That's what Faeder told her every night before sending her off to check on the animals, what she should have listened to before running off into the woods after the stray chicken. The bird would have been fine without her- it could have found its own way back home without all of her hassle. Then she wouldn't have become lost or been chased by wolves, and she certainly wouldn't have fallen backwards into the marsh while dodging the yellow-eyed beasts. She'd be safe at home, sleeping soundly on her straw mat until her faeder woke her up in the morning to start another day of work. Instead, she was lying on the cold, wet ground, shivering in the freezing breeze that whipped past.

She should not have been lost. She knew the woods as well as any squirrel to the found therein and should not have had any problems with her inner compass; north and south were as familiar to her as up and down. Still, something had gone wrong, and whatever it was had landed her in this predicament.

Lost.

She was lost. Lost and scared and tired and angry and hurt and... choking. She was choking. She coughed, spewing out a mouthful of dirty water. More rushed in. She coughed again, then again, gasping for air and finding none. She snorted the water out of her nose, only for it to fill up once again, causing her to sneeze. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe...

Arching her back, she struggled against the hold the earth had on her. It fought back. She twisted her head, searching for a light, for a person, for a sign. She saw only the darkness. Her lungs were on fire. Fire in the water. She retched. It hurt. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't...

Nothing.

There was nothing.

No cold. No darkness. No marsh. No water.

No _her_.

What was a _her_?

She didn't know.

She didn't care.

She slept.

It was dark. So very, very dark.

She couldn't see anything; not her hands, curled up in front of her face, or her knees, drawn up close to her chest as she lay on her right side, rolled up like a small, frightened ball.

She breathed. Her breath was warm on her hands.

She could breathe.

She breathed again, deeper this time. She felt the hot air slide over her arms, over the goosebumps that had appeared on her skin. She breathed again and again, relishing in the feeling of inhaling and exhaling. She didn't remember breathing before. She thought that she hadn't been able to, that she had choked, but now she felt the air rushing to and from her lungs and it felt good. It felt good to breathe.

She raised her head, drawing in a deep, deep breath. The top of her head bumped against something. She felt around. She was trapped; trapped in a box. She hit the walls with her hands, but they did not budge. She punched them, kicked them, slapped them, but they would not move.

She was trapped.

She started breathing faster.

"Faeder?" She whispered, her voice hoarse. There was no reply. "Faeder?" She asked again, louder this time. Still no answer. She lay there quietly, trying to slow her breathing as she listened intently for noises. She thought she heard a distant thump, followed by a groan, but she wasn't sure.

She waited.

She did not have to wait very long.

Something creaked. She heard footsteps coming closer... They stopped.

"What exhibits are these?" A voice asked. A woman. She sounded strange.

"Something about mummies, I think." Another voice. Male. He sounded strange, too. She did not recognize their accents.

"'Traveling Mummies: From Bogs to Tombs?'" A third voice. Male, once again. He didn't sound as strange as the other two, but his voice was still... off.

"Yeah, Ahk. Something like that. What are you doing here?"

"I... thought you might appreciate a translator. I speak many languages, Larry. Some quite rare. It may be of service if-"

"Yes, thank you. Sacajawea, you take the ones over there. I'll get these. Ahkmenrah, you can just stand right there."

The footsteps began again, growing closer. The absence of their voices alerted Agate to the muffled shouts and thumps coming from all around her. She guessed that there were others trapped in similar boxes, though she could not imagine why.

A voice broke out apart from the rest of them, shouting in some strange language she could not hope to understand.

"Yeah, uh, hi. My name is Larry Daley and... yeah. Okay, let's get you out of your box. Ahk, are you getting this?"

"Yes, Larry. He is asking why you look so strange."

"Okay, just- just respond with something, all right? I've got other boxes to open."

More thumps, then a creak, and another voice shouting out above the first one.

"Ahk?"

"He is asking where his pig is."

"Okay. Weird. You good?"

"Yes."

"Sacajawea, how're you doing?"

"Fine."

More creaking, voices and thuds. Time passed. She waited. With each noise, her nervousness doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled until she felt as though her box were bristling with restless energy. Who were these people? Why was she in a box? Was she... had she drowned? What was going on? She breathed faster, deeper. It seemed like there wasn't enough air. Her head spun. Her chest tightened. She grew dizzy, and it seemed as though the air around her was fading back into nothing...

She shook her head. Her breathing was back to normal. She was fine. There was air. She could breathe. Her heart thumped, and she concentrated on the sound. It calmed her.

The number of voices speaking out had grown. She could hear arguing and understood a few words. She heard someone- the first man- calming someone down, and she heard someone else- the second man- going from speaking in the language she understood to different ones, some sounding similar, some much less so. Eventually, many of the voices subsided, though whether that was good or bad she did not know.

"Hey, Ahk," The first man spoke again, "there're only a few left, want to help us get these people out?"

"Yes, Larry. Where should I start?"

"Uh... try that little one over there."

Agate heard footsteps nearing her. She heard hands fumbling with whatever was keeping her locked in the box, and she unconsciously scooted back to the corner farthest from the noise. Her chest hurt again, and she realized that she was holding her breathe. She exhaled slowly, then breathed in through her nose, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Something clicked, and the top of the box lifted, letting in a sliver of bright, white light that burned her unprepared eyes. Jumping back, she raised her hands to her face in defense, her heart missing a beat as she realized just how helpless she was at this moment.

More light flooded in. Light. Light like she had craved, light like she had missed. Light like she needed. But it burned. She squinted, trying to see past the blurs in her vision but not getting very far.

"Faeder?" She asked, knowing that it wasn't him but hoping against hope for it anyway. Her vision slowly corrected itself, and she found herself looking up into a face that was most definitely, most assuredly _not_ her faeder.

* * *

"Who are you? Wh-where am I?" Agate looked around, her eyes still brimming with tears as they finished adjusting to the light. Through her blurred vision, she saw that she was in a room- a large room- surrounded by numerous boxes of varying sizes and shapes. All were shining and black, and all were open. A confused crowd of what must have been their inhabitants murmured amongst themselves at the far end of the room, where a tan-skinned woman wearing a short animal skin shift spoke to them quietly. Her hair was long and black, braided in two plaits that ran down past her shoulders. Beside her stood a man, strangely dressed in a fitted blue tunic and trousers of the same color. His hair was cut short, his face cleanly shaven. His feet- clothed in a dark, shining material- squeaked whenever he took a step. Around them, people of varying hair colors, skin tones, and garb wandered about. Agate was stunned. "What is this? What's going on?"

"Yes, I am sure all of this must seem very strange to you. You are now in the twenty-first century, you see, in the captivating land of America." She did not bother to respond, much less turn around to see who was talking to her. "It must be quite different from what you were used to."

"It's... amazing." And surely it was: light pooled into the room, raining down from bright squares on the ceiling, bathing everything it touched in its golden glow. Agate could not decide whether it came from the sun, with the rays being gathered and directed down into the room, or by fire, with a similar process filtering its own light the same way. Either way, they were too bright too look at for long, and she was forced to tear her eyes away, lest she find herself blinded by the mysterious illuminations. As the purple spots faded from her vision, she found herself gawking open-mouthed at the rest of the room: smooth, shimmering floors reflected the light coming from above, seemingly made of square rocks carved into perfect squares that fit seamlessly together. The walls were smooth, too, and reached up to hold the ceiling, which, between the glowing panels of light, was also divided into equally-shaped shapes that fit together gracefully. She gazed around the room, taking in the exact details and perfectly formed shapes that would have been near impossible to replicate where she was from. This was true artistry, the kind of artistry that could be afforded only by the most powerful, most illustrious kings of legend. "Wh-where am I?"

"This is the storage room of the renowned Museum of Natural History. It it not much, Ill admit, but the rest of the museum is better, I can assure you."

Though she tried, Agate failed to make sense of this information. Storage room? Museum? Neither were familiar to her. Agitated at her own lack of knowledge, she turned towards the speaker, deciding to change the subject. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ahkmenrah, son of the distinguished Merenkahre and the beautiful Shepseheret." As he said this, his back straightened and he held his head higher, a confident smile gracing his features. Seeing her blank, unknowing expression, however, his smile wavered. "The Fourth King of the Fourth King? One of the greatest pharaohs Egypt has ever known?"

"Pharaoh? Egypt?" Her mind boggled, comprehending even less than before. She looked at him- really looked at him- hoping to see something familiar, but finding none.

He stood straight, composed, his lips set in a thin line as he waited for her to finish her assessment. He tilted his head slightly to one side, his eyes sparkling in the light. Agate felt herself staring and, slightly abashed, she tore her eyes away from his own and took inventory of his clothing. He wore a rather heavy-looking helmet made of gold, or, well, what Agate could only guess to be gold, as she had never actually seen it herself. It sparkled, reflecting shafts of light that splattered onto the walls and floor, as did his matching gold armbands, contoured firmly to his forearms. Around his neck he wore an equally heavy-looking necklace, made up of hundreds of beads arranged in a patterns of gold, blue, orange and turquoise. Gems were embedded in it, also catching and reflecting the light that fell upon them. It seemed as though the purpose of his jewelry was to blind viewers, or at the very least distract them with the flamboyance of it all.

Underneath the sparkling necklace, in place of a shirt, he wore instead a loose-fitting, orange-colored, elbow-length robe, decorated with gold designs that nearly rivaled the detail of his jewelry. The robe was parted in the front, revealing both his bare midriff and the detailed belt that encircled his waist, supporting the orange skirt underneath. The belt was made in a similar fashion to the necklace, though it seemed, if possible, even more gaudy with its mixed beads that swirled about in an almost confusing manner. The sheer amount of color and the potency thereof was stunning, though whether in a fashionable or frightening way was hard to tell. It was both beautiful and harmful to look at, though it certainly demanded attention.

Her subject moved, a subtle change of the leg he rested upon, and the orange material clothing him billowed out, rippling in wave-like motions that quickly calmed as the cloth pooled about him once again, rustling as it did so. The effect of his movement was so unexpectedly graceful, like watching a river pass smoothly by, and it took Agate by surprise. He had seemed as a waterfall, a waterfall pooling orange and blue and gold, colors of a sunset. She had never seen anything such as this; not fabric that floated about in a breeze as a feather in the wind and certainly neither jewels nor gold. Whatever this was that he claimed to be- a pharaoh or somesuch silly word- it seemed to be another name for a king. A very, very rich king, in whose presence Agate was surely unworthy to be in. This realization hit her with such force that she may very well have gasped aloud, though she was too captivated by his appearance and her apprehension to know for sure.

"None of this is familiar to you." It was not a question. He- Ahkmenrah- merely smiled, an innocent act that struck a chord deep within her and angered her at the same time. Seeing her scowl, his smile quickly faded, replaced instead by an almost sheepish expression. "I apologize. All of this must seem very strange to you."

"Yes, it is. Why am I here?"

"You are an exhibit. You have been... dead... for a very long time. Many things have changed since you last saw this world."

"Dead?" Confusion, paired with worry-bred annoyance, replaced her awe at her surroundings.

"Yes, dead." Ahkmenrah bowed his head, no longer smiling. "I am sorry. This must be quite a shock."

Agate's thoughts spun. She thought back to when she had awoken in the box, then farther... farther... She remembered the night, the darkness, the chilling wind as it whipped through the trees. She remembered howls and running and being scared, then falling, then cold, then... nothing. Waking up in the box, but nothing in between falling and waking. She didn't even remember sleeping or dreaming, there was just simple nothing.

"Dead..." She whispered, staring ahead at nothing. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Death was darkness. Death was nothing. Death was... the bog. The night. Sleep. Nothing. But she couldn't be dead- she was alive now. Wasn't she?

She didn't know.

"Is this... death?" She asked, her eyes swimming and unfocused. She heard herself speaking as though from a far off place.

"No, this is not death. This is different." Something in his tone changed, then, catching her attention. She looked up to see a small, almost timid smile grace his features. "This is a second life."

"How?"

His eyes sparkled. Her thoughts spun.

"Let me show you."


	3. A Strange Time

_Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long. Between school, sleeping and eating, I've been too worn out to write more than a few sentences at a time for this chapter. Maybe someday I'll get the hang of "time management," but I wouldn't hold out too much hope for it._

 _Anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!_

 _(P.S. Reviews are greatly appreciated *wink wink* *nudge nudge*)_

* * *

With that, the golden-hued boy held out his hand, motioning for her to follow him. More than a little apprehensive, Agate climbed out of her box, flinching as her bare feet padded softly on the unexpectedly icy floor. She stumbled, all feeling in her legs gone as she worked to remember how to walk. Her head felt light, as though she had just awoken from a deep sleep- which, according to what she had heard so far, was not that far from the truth. Shaking the clouds from her mind, she righted herself, heat rising to her cheeks as she felt Ahkmenrah watching her. She felt like a babe, stumbling about as though just learning how to walk. One step. Stumble. Two steps. Three. Stumble. She caught herself on a nearby box, jumping backwards as a string of savage threats attacked her. Ahkmenrah took a hurried step towards her, his body tense.

"I do not believe he will be one of the lucky few to be let out tonight." The pharaoh muttered, his dark eyes glaring at the cursing object. For a moment, nothing happened, then he relaxed and held his hand out for Agate to take, a small smirk once again gracing his features.

"Come. There is much to see."

Though sorely tempted to accept his hand, a glance at her own dirt-encrusted nails changed her mind. Coated with a layer of grime and rough from years of work, they would no doubt soil his own with their filth. Chagrined, Agate shook her head, taking an unsteady step forward. She stumbled, but did not fall. A few more shuffle-steps later and her wobbliness was much decreased, though she was by no means continuing at a steady rate. Ahkmenrah waited for her patiently, continuing on only after she nodded that she was fine to go. He watched her for a second, a curious look in his eye, as though perplexed at her very existence, before continuing on at a leisurely pace. Thankful for his slow, short strides, Agate followed, wondering what exactly it was that seemed to confuse him so.

"Larry has told me not to lead the traveling exhibits around on tours until after it's been decided that they are not threats, but I do not believe you will pose a problem." He turned his head, offering her a small smile before turning to face the doors before them. He reached out his hand and, with almost effortless ease, pushed it open, revealing a bright light that reflected off the equally-bright flooring and framed panels of glass on the walls. "The last time I was asked to be part of the greeting party, you see, I made the mistake of bringing along my tablet. I hadn't thought that anyone would dare to steal it from me, especially not when I was awake, but upon learning of its otherworldly properties, a small band of rather rough-looking figures decided to try their luck at making off with it. Teddy and the soldiers from the Civil War stopped them just before they made it out the doors, but Larry decided that I should leave it to be protected by my Anubis guardians rather than carry it around with me when new exhibits are near."

Agate was not listening. Her attention had been captured by the small, stationary landscapes stuck inside the framed glass. One had a meadow, with a myriad of flowers that painted the ground in a vibrant blanket. The grass, long stalks of pale green, blew in the wind, though she could feel none on her face. The glass must have stopped it from reaching her.

"What _is_ this?" She demanded, silencing her guide mid-sentence. He looked at her incredulously, as though believing her to jest. She jabbed a finger at the image, her skin making contact with the cool glass separating her from the other side. The frame wobbled, taking the landscape with it, and Ahkmenrah reached out to readjust it once it stopped swinging.

"Beautiful, isn't it? It is called a _painting,_ an image of something that is real. A copy."

"A copy? It's not real?"

Ahkmenrah was silent for a moment, then, "Just because it is not the original does not mean that it is not real. Many of what you will see here are not the originals, but they are no less real to themselves because of that."

He started off again, leaving Agate to wonder at his strange words. True, they were no stranger than anything else he had said about his tablet or the man named Teddy, but there seemed to be more invested in them than he had let on. She looked back at the painting, as Ahkmenrah had called it, and peered closer at the hair-thin blades of grass and the thin, wispy clouds that meandered on by. A gentle breeze disturbed the flowers, and one purplish one lost a petal in the movement. It settled on a smaller yellow flower, then floated off as another breeze blew past. It was too real to be simply an image, and yet too fake to be an actual meadow. Shaking the cobweb of thoughts from her head, Agate hurried off to catch up with Ahkmenrah, who seemed not to notice her delay in following.

"... gave me the tablet some four thousand years ago. They had our very best priests and scholars make it, using everything we'd learned of the afterlife. It is one of my people's most prized possessions."

They passed numerous frames, each one with a different scene to behold. One was a strange-looking cup holding flowers on a table, another had a smiling girl smelling a flower. Agate had been transfixed as she watched the girl sneeze, petals rustling in the sudden gust. Blushing, the girl had covered her nose, mumbling a soft "Excuse me," as she hurried away, disappearing into the frame.

Soon after the episode with the sneezing girl, they exited the hallway, entering into another, much larger room that could have housed a whole town, if ever it needed to. The ceiling was so high up that Agate wondered how it had ever been built, and the floor had taken on an even shinier appearance, with more details and decorations forming patterns that danced across its surface. If Agate could have discerned more details of the room itself, she would have, but the wild crowd distracted her from all else. Men and women, though mostly men, of every size and shape puttered about, running to and fro in an endless dance of disorder. Animals, most unknown to her, raced about, wrestling with one another and sometimes even with the people walking about. One such animal- though it may have been a very hairy child- appeared before her out of thin air, startling her into a yelp. It laughed, a condescending, obnoxious laugh, and promptly leapt up onto Ahkmenrah's shoulder.

"Ah, Dexter, so good to see you. How was your rest?" He asked, smiling bright and warm at the creature sitting atop his arm. He was answered with a chattering noise and a small bark, which confirmed for Agate that this creature was, in fact, an animal. As if sensing her stare, it turned its ruddy-brown head and peered at her through two muddy eyes, baring its fangs as it yowled a question at its perch.

"Ah, yes," Ahkmenrah nodded, somehow understanding its unintelligible speech. "This is... Forgive me, but I seem to have neglected your name."

"Agate."

"'Agate.' Yes, thank you." Turning back to the small creature- Dexter- he gestured at her as he continued on. "Dexter, this is Miss Agate. She is to be our friend, so please, behave yourself."

Another howl escaped the impish creature as it jumped off of Ahkmenrah's arm, racing back into the blur of menagerie surrounding them. Agate watched, captivated, as it greeted others in a similar manner, leaping up onto arms and chittering away. No one seemed surprised by its antics, though a few of the more menacing-looking animals warned it away with quiet snarls. One such beast plodded by, stopping a few feet from Agate to regard her with lazy yellow eyes. Though its fur was a tawny color and its face resembled that of a cat, the teeth that appeared as it growled and the hunger that pierced her as she looked into its eyes reminded her of only one thing- a wolf. A very large, very fat, very strong wolf that was ambling along beside her, close enough to launch itself at her, to fell her with one swipe of its paw, to bit her, to-

"-te? Agate?" Smooth hands gripped her own, warm against the sudden chill that cut across her being. The touch drew her like a beacon from the darkness of her memory, where frigid winds blew past and sharp stones cut into her bare feet as she shot through the woods, her chest hurting and her legs pumping as she searched for an escape, finding it in a soothing voice that replaced the whoosh of the gale in her mind. "... my voice. You're fine, you will be fine... will not hurt you... safe. You're safe..."

Little by little, the glaring details of that night disappeared, followed by the fearful stupor that had paralyzed her. The bite of the wind was dulled, the darkness was brightened, and the pounding of her heart steadied, though it was still by no means relaxed. Eventually, she was able to breathe, focusing on inhaling and exhaling and inhaling and exhaling and how his touch anchored her here, safe in the now, and not in the then. By the time she had calmed enough to refocus on her surroundings, the beast had gone, along with most of the occupants of the room.

"You will be fine."

Agate looked up, surprised at the conviction with which he spoke. His (e/c) eyes searched hers, seeking she knew not what, found it, and smiled grimly down at her.

"Are you ready to continue?"

Heat rose to her cheeks in a blush of indignation at being spoken to like a child, but she did not protest. Rather, she simply nodded, swallowing her pride as she allowed him to lead her fitful self away from the buzzing throng of onlookers eyeing them warily. Hidden behind a large stone pillar, away from prying eyes, it was easier to breathe, and breathe she did. Ahkmenrah stood beside her, far enough away that he wasn't crowding and yet close enough that she was comforted by his presence while she regained her composure. Before she had straightened up and announced that she was ready to continue, however, a thunderous voice paired with the click-clacking of hooves echoed in greeting as a horse the color of raw umber raced up to them, its rider waving and grinning like a madman under his own dark brown mustache.

"Ahk!" He shouted, slowing his mount to a trot as he neared. "Back already? Oh- and who is this?"

Though he said it with a smile, Agate could hear the apprehension in his voice. As he sized her up, she recognized the shrewd look in his eyes- it was one her father often wore. Although she was unperturbed by his stern gaze, she could not help but feel nervous as his brows furrowed together, as though something about her had earned his dislike.

"Her name is Agate." Ahkmenrah stated, filling the silence with his explanation. "Seeing as neither Larry nor Sacajawea required much assistance with taking inventory of the exhibits, I decided that I might be of more use helping the more coherent to adjust to their new surroundings. Agate," he motioned back towards her, "has numerous questions about this new world, so I thought it best to escort her on a short tour of the museum to assist in her understanding. I trust you agree with my judgement, Sir- er- President Roosevelt."

The last sentence of his, phrased more like a question than a declaration, hung in the air like a dense fog. Agate shifted her weight from foot to foot, the solemn silence adding to her unease. Finally, Pres- Sir- Roosevelt's mouth twitched, and a grin broke out across his features, lighting up his somber eyes.

"A fine thought, young pharaoh," President Roosevelt laughed, slapping said pharaoh on the back with so much force Ahkmenrah stumbled forwards, his jaw set as a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. President Roosevelt did not seem to notice. "I'm sure Miss Agate here appreciates your consideration. Now, if you two will excuse me, I must finish my rounds. Until next time, Miss."

With a final salute, he and his steed raced off, scattering a small group of strange-looking birds into a flurry as the echoing clip-clop of hooves slowly faded away.

"President Roosevelt is a highly respected man here at the museum." Ahkmenrah stated after a minute of dazed silence. "A tad boisterous, I'll admit, but a very good man. I trust his judgement. If he approves of you, then I know I can trust you."

He smiled at her, and, relieved, Agate released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then, smiling, she turned to follow her guide once again.


	4. The Tomb

Ahkmenrah snuck a glance at the disheveled girl beside him who, despite the fact that she was a whole head shorter, seemed to have no difficulty matching his pace. Her mouth was set in a permanent "O" of awe as she gazed about the rooms they passed through, her eyes bright with wonder as she took in each and every detail. He watched as she craned her neck to stare into the light fixture above them, then, blinking, stumbled as she rubbed the imaginary stars from her eyes.

"It is amazing, is it not? How man has managed to harness the power of the sun in such small containers?" He asked, unable to suppress the smile creeping across his face as she nodded absentmindedly, once again trying to peer into the upcoming light as they walked by. She blinked again, but was less surprised by the sudden darkness clouding her vision as she looked away.

"How?"

"Electricity. It's attributed to a man named Benjamin Franklin, who tied a key to the string of a kite as an experiment and..." He trailed off, noticing Agate's blank stare. He remembered then that she had no knowledge of kites or science, unlike him, and so he searched his mind for a simple way to explain the phenomena. "Well, the energy is turned into light. It's... it's like a small fire, only nothing actually burns. Er, well..."

His face flushed in an extremely un-pharaohish manner as he stumbled for an explanation; thankfully, though, Agate's attention was directed elsewhere, back to the ceiling lights rather than to his red face. Ahkmenrah's moment of embarassment was short lived, as they soon reached the entrance to his Egyptology exhibit, and all thoughts of electricity and lights were replaced with barely concealed glee at being able to share his heritage with someone new.

Though it had been almost a year since Larry had freed him from his sarcophagus, Ahkmenrah had not had as many opportunities as he would have liked to share his history with those around him. While he spent most of his time with Larry and Teddy, they were frequently preoccupied with shepherding the other exhibits and therefore too busy to pay attention to him. Sacajawea and Dexter would listen, but it was mostly out of politeness rather than actual interest, which took most of the fun out of it. Nicky and Octavius enjoyed stories about battles and gods, but over the course of the last few months, Ahk felt as though he had run out of wars and legends to recount to them. He wanted someone to listen to him recount tales of how wise his father had been, how perceptive his mother, and how grand their life; tales of his own world, what he himself had loved, and what he himself had lost, not stories of glorified rulers who had lived centuries before him.

He shook his head, scolding himself. Such selfish thoughts were unbefitting a pharaoh such as him. His mother would be ashamed.

Looking up, he held out his arm to alert Agate that he had stopped. "We're here."

He turned to see Agate's reaction to the ornate doorway leading into the dimly lit hallway. While she had managed to keep her jaw from once again falling slack, her eyes still widened as she took in the large stones, etched with numerous hieroglyphics and images depicting gods and events. Taking a tentative step forward, she reached out her hand to touch the carvings, then pulled away suddenly, glancing at him sheepishly as though she expected a reprimand.

"Hieroglyphics," he explained, reaching out to trace the circular shape of a sun. "Egyptian writing. Much more interesting than simple English letters, in my opinion. It's a pity no one uses them anymore."

His voice faded out as he spoke, leaving him to wonder if he even voiced that last sentence, or merely mouthed it. He shook his head to clear it, then smiled his most winning smile at Agate, hoping she would overlook his temporary nostalgia. Her mind was elsewhere, trying to wrap itself around the countless images inscribed on the pillars leading into the shadows, through which were barely visible walls and more pillars covered with similar inscriptions. She reached out once more to touch the stone, tracing her fingers along the images as she studied them.

"Do the pictures tell a story?" She asked, absentmindedly stroking the grooves carved into the stone. "No one knows how to write where I come from, but we've heard of people who do. They write stories."

"These hieroglyphics tell many stories." He pointed to a group of stones right inside the doorway, where just enough light passed through to illuminate a large army being led by a pharaoh. "Do you see those pictures over there? The ones with the soldiers marching off to battle?"

"Yes. Is the pharaoh supposed to be you?"

"No, it is my father, Merenkahre the Great. He conquered many people, expanding our kingdom and earning our people great wealth. It was my wish to grow to be just as great a pharaoh as him." He stared at his father's profile, remembering his family and his life in Egypt. Time had dimmed his memories, blurring and confusing the people and places he knew so well, but he could still recall his parents' faces, their voices, their smiles... No, he shouldn't lose himself to nostalgia again. He was a prince. He must be strong.

Still, he missed them dearly.

He turned to Agate, expecting her to still be studying the hieroglyphics. Instead, she was turned toward him, her mouth turned down in a slight frown, her eyes sad as they searched his. He knew that look well. It was one his mother wore when he was sick. It was a look of pity.

Standing up straighter, he smiled again, though it was pained and wobbly and he knew it would hide nothing. "Come," he said, eager to change the subject, "there's still the rest of the tomb for you to see."

* * *

Agate watched him out of the corner of her eye. His voice had faded out once more, though in his eyes she read the words he was unable to share. He missed his father, his home, his people, just as she did. Only, he had been missing his world for far longer than the few hours she had been missing hers. She wondered just how long.

"Come," his voice wobbled as he plastered a feeble smile to his face. "There's still the rest of the tomb for you to see."

He turned, the train of his robe flowing about his feet as he passed through the doorway into the dark hallway. Agate hesitated, but squared her shoulders and followed. They passed giant stone pillars, as well as two large statues with human bodies and heads that looked like wolves. Agate shivered, remembering the howls that had chased her to her death. She remembered how the moon had been hidden by the trees, how black the night, and the shadowy hallway suddenly felt a lot longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw one of the statues watching her as she passed. Fighting the urge to turn and look, she quickened her pace to catch up to Ahkmenrah, whose eyes were focused ahead, though not on anything visible to her. He was remembering something, or trying not to, as his mouth had turned itself down into a slight frown. He felt her studying him and looked over, quickly changing his expression to an amiable smile that set the worst of her nerves at ease.

"Here we are." He gestured for her to pass by him through the doors, and she found herself in a room much smaller than the others they had passed through to get here. The light in this chamber was just barely enough to illuminate the heavily decorated walls, but it was more than what had been in the hallway, for which she was grateful. Hieroglyphics and other such carvings spread out around the room, continuing on and on until they disappeared into the shadowy corners. Glass boxes lined the sides of the room, holding intricate objects of every shape and size. Some were glittering with gold and jewels; others were dull, worn by the many years that had passed since their prime. Agate studied them, trying to guess how long that had been, but was distracted by the small markings covering the glass box itself.

"Are these... writings?" She asked, reaching out to touch one such image: a curving letter than reminded her of a snake.

"Yes, that is English, the language most commonly spoken here in America."

"English..." she mused, "They're not as nice to look at as the hie... hier..."

She blushed, hoping Ahkmenrah would overlook her difficulty with the word. He did.

"Yes, our hieroglyphics are much more dignified and pleasing to look at. When I was a child, I would stare at them for hours, enthralled by the stories they told. Sometimes I still do." He smiled. "There is more than just writing to be seen here, though. These displays are full of artifacts recovered from my tomb when the archaeologists excavated it. Ah, archaeologists are scientists- people- who travel around to different places to unearth and study things from the past. Things like me. Like you."

Agate spun to face him. "What do you mean?"

"They dug though sand and stone to find my tomb. They similarly dug into the ground to find you. Then they studied you to find out when and how you had lived, and what the world had been like when you were alive. It is a very intricate process, one that I much admire, as it-"

"They... found me? In the bogs? They found my body in the bogs?" Agate's voice rose to a pitch reserved for panic as she imagined them pulling her limp form from the murky water, slime streaming off of her clothes and hair. Would she have still had her hair, or would it and her skin have fallen away by then? Did they have to pull each of her bones out of the mud, or...

"It is an honor to be studied by archaeologists." Ahkmenrah replied, misinterpreting her tone of voice, "It isn't the most flattering way to be remembered, I'll grant you that, but it teaches modern generations about past ways of life that have been forgotten. And the past should never be forgotten."

Agate gulped. She needed air.

"I don't feel well."

"Ah, um, you can rest here, if you wish." Ahkmenrah gestured to a short table sitting in the middle of the room. It was the same table that Agate had been avoiding, for she knew what was resting upon it. The shining gold and intricate carvings covering it did nothing to hide its true purpose: it was a coffin, she knew, and she would not go near it. When she had been alive, she had seen more coffins than anyone else, save her father, and she had despised them for taking her family from her. Even after her death, she still despised them. Maybe even more, knowing that she herself belonged in one.

"N-no." She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "I just need to walk a bit. Out there."

"All right." He asked no questions as he led her back out of the room, through the dimly lit hallway and into the much busier one. Agate breathed a sigh of relief as she looked around, her eyes readjusting to the change in lighting. Glancing back into the dark hallway, she was sure she saw two pairs of yellow eyes watching them- without a doubt the strange statues she had noticed earlier- but was relieved when they showed no sign of following.

Ahkmenrah led her back the same way they had come. They came to the large room where they had been greeted by Dexter, though the little creature was now nowhere to be found, and veered off to the side of the room that was less populated. She saw Ahkmenrah gesture to someone, but didn't look to see who. She was more concerned with focusing on her spinning surroundings. Sitting, rather than walking, was what she should have chosen to do. Fortunately, Ahkmenrah noticed her predicament and helped her to a nearby bench.

"You didn't like my tomb?" He asked, much to Agate's chagrin. She shook her head, her face downcast. "That's all right. Most people don't care for it, either. They find it dark and dreary, and feel uncomfortable being so near my sarcophagus. Er, my coffin, as you would say."

"Doesn't it make you uncomfortable?" She asked.

"Sometimes. For years after arriving here, I was trapped in my sarcophagus. Night after night, I could barely move. I couldn't see anything. I hated it. Even now, every morning when I climb back in my sarcophagus, I remember that, and..." He shook the thought from his head. "But now it's different. Now I am free, and I have friends, and I know that as long as they are here, that will never happen again. Knowing that, I don't have to be afraid of the dark, or the sarcophagus. N-not that I was afraid of the dark, or anything. Just that I didn't care for it very much. Pharaohs aren't scared of the dark, you know. Or sarcophagi."

Agate studied his face as he rambled on. He didn't seem to be one to stumble over words; rather, all that he had said and done before had been proper and precise, if not a bit hesitant. It hadn't been hard to imagine him as a king then. Now, blushing in embarrassment as he messed up his words, he seemed to be anything but. She looked at him and, in place of a ruler, saw a boy. It startled her how young he really was; he couldn't have been much older than her.

He felt her watching him and turned away, distracting himself with smoothing the orange fabric of his robe. Then, conscious that his fiddling was just as distracting as his stumbling, he quickly stood and brushed himself off. A silent minute passed, then a strangely dressed man carrying a small, yellow cup appeared. He handed it to Ahkmenrah, who in turn handed it to Agate.

"I thought you might like some water." He explained, his face still turned away from hers.

"Thank you." She drank. Then, unsure of what to do next, offered, "I'm feeling better now."

"Good. I am glad."

They shared another moment of silence, during which Ahkmenrah took the empty cup form her hand and dropped it into a black box sitting close to the wall.

"Would you like to continue our walk?" He ventured, "We don't have to go back to my tomb, if you don't want to. There's plenty of other things to see."

"Yes, please." Agate agreed, thankful for something to do. The room spun as she stood, but quickly righted itself. Though her mind was still addled with all that had happened since she awoke, she was determined to learn as much about this new land as she could, if only to distract her from the unsavory memories that were still too recent to forget.


End file.
